


The Colour of Paint

by DraconicWolf



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: A hint of the twins, Alternative Universe - Transformers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 21:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconicWolf/pseuds/DraconicWolf
Summary: How far someone will go to make their sibling smile.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything (cries in corner) other than my own ideas. It is not my intention to steal others imaginings but if any ideas are similar to your own please tell me.

With a soft giggle, Orion Pax skipped down the crowded street of Iacon. Clutched to his chest was a brand new datapad from Master Trion. The Archivist had just gotten it that morning and had held it for when Orion visited after school. He was excited to read it to his sister when he got home. She always liked the ones on mythology and foreign lands. 

Smile wide, he greeted his Creator’s brother, a retired vet, who was heading to the bar. The smile was not returned, though, instead there was a knowing look that stabbed the young mech to his spark. As his smile faded the old rusted mech pulled him in for a quick hug. When he pulled back he noticed the datapad and the old mech’s eyes lifted for a small moment, before becoming haunted with memories that made him hurry to his drink.   
Orion’s skip was now gone but his smile remained, trained there after so many years. With a gentle click of the door, he entered his family’s humble apartment. Nine of them lived in the six room, two-story quarters. Inching past his snoring grand-creator, he rushed up the stairs. He was aware after all these years what part of each stair creaked and squeaked. It allowed him to rush forward at the top of the stairs towards the only bedroom inside the apartment.   
With a jerk, he paused, closing his optics and resting his head against the door. A few minutes passed and his face went through a series of emotions as he argued with his sister. She was having a bad day to not want him to see her. Finally, his optics opened and he was allowed to open the door and walk into the room.

Inside was his feminine double. Her paint a horrendous green and orange combination, the only kind their creators could afford on her sensitive metal. Half her face was scarred from botched operations as a sparkling when their family had been truly desperate. She was hooked up to sparking and shaking monitoring equipment and covered in a stained and worn blanket. To him, she was the most beautiful thing on the planet.

He slowly stepped in, optics never straying from hers. Coolant gathered and she turned her head as much as she could. With a fond huff, he put the datapad down beside the berth and gently sat next to her. Carefully, as if touching thin glass, Orion wiped his sister’s tears away, trailing his hand over the flexible metal on her head. She rubbed into it like the turbo cats he would sometimes throughout the city. 

Reaching beside him with his other hand he brought up the datapad and turned it on. His sister’s head turned back to look at him as his voice began to fill the room. His hand never stopped soothing her, wiping her tears and negative thoughts away.

When it was dark and the datapad was finished, Orion sat there looking out the window, listening to noises in the room. He had never heard his sister’s voice, not really. Their biology allowed them a telepathic way of speaking, but the effort she made to breathe let alone talk or laugh. . . He couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled. 

Their creationday was tomorrow, and Orion still had not decided on a present. The medic had said this would be her last creationday, but another had said that when she was born too. Still, something in Orion told him that tomorrow he would be saying goodbye to his beloved twin, and he could see she knew it as well.  
An idea for a gift came to him as he was walking home from school. Though his creators were both simple dock workers, one of his grandcreators was a retired body painter. He did all the work on his family so many mistook them for higher class on Iacon’s main streets. Orion’s metal was always painted a dark grey, almost black, with vibrant green and blue highlighting in the form of constellations. It was stunning work, and the one thing he was vain about. 

Every day he walked past a body paint shop run by two brothers, twins just as he and his sister were. Their methods were frowned upon by most of the public as it was a far more permanent coloring. Ink and dyes being injected right into the protoform rather than just the armor on top. With his head held high, new id in hand identifying him as a legal adult, he walked into the shop. 

Nearly five hours later, he returned home. Upon opening the door, he could hear the worried twittering of his family about his whereabouts. His Sire calmly explaining over and over that Orion had explained that morning he was going to be looking for a gift after school. 

As sneakily as before, Orion fled up the stairs and to his sister. Stopping in front of the door he again rested his head on it, this time to build suspense. With a grin, he flung the door open and struck a dramatic pose.

His sister’s mouth opened as wide as it could, as did her optics. Orion started to laugh and dance around the room to show off his frame. He explained to her what he had done, how she wouldn’t be the only one wearing plain paint now, as his was now his two least favourite colors as well, red and blue.  
All commotion and noise in the apartment ceased as a hoarse laugh replaced Orion’s. In astonishment, he looked towards the bed and saw that his sister was indeed laughing at his antics. He dashed to her, all amusement gone from his face. With quick movements, he unplugged the monitors and brought her up against her chest, daring to hug.

Happy tears streamed down her face as her frame began to give out one organ at a time. Her laughter was nearly drowned out by frantic steps as the rest of their family fled up the stairs. Orion could still hear her, though, could still see the happiness in her optics. And as their creators reached the doorway and cried out together, he heard her only spoken words.

“Thank you, my Hunter of Peace.”

**Author's Note:**

> For those who may not know, Orion is the name of a constellation of a mythological hunter and a possible meaning for pax is peace.


End file.
